Forced Sexting is Worse than Drunk Texting

Do I sound like I know what I'm talking about? I don't. Never is it more obvious that I am no longer single than when I am with my single friends. Amelia recently had to explain to me that "hooking up" no longer means just kissing with tongue. It refers to straight up sex with a capital S. My sister-in-law, who is currently spending a semester abroad in France, told me she was "hanging out" with a guy which I was supposed to take to mean hooking up with him, but only in the same way that I -- until Amelia rectified my error -- believed it to mean. I'm only 25 and therefore it is mortifying that I sound like my mother when engaged in conversations regarding the intimate details of my friends' dalliances, but it should also come as no surprise that I am not particularly well-versed in the nuances of sext messaging either. (Can I call it sext messaging as opposed to sexting, for example?) Maureen O'Connor wrote an equal parts funny and interesting story for the first bi-monthly issue of New York Magazine and in it she addresses a social condition regarding sexting: that more than half of the people who do it don't particularly like to do it. Culling details from her own experiences and reporting from elsewhere, she likens the act to "a superior version of Candy Crush." I recommend a read and then a hop, stick and giggle back because shit is about to get real personal with this four part question that begs an immediate answer: DO YOU SEXT? IS IT FOR YOU? FOR YOUR PARTNER? FOR YOUR EGO? This is a safe place. Let's christen this circumstances of this...family, yeah? (Sexting's Strange Paradox: It's Just No Fun)

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